


Turn Back Time

by TinkerBella



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 15:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8539144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinkerBella/pseuds/TinkerBella
Summary: I loved loved LOVED Episode 8 Cork screw.  And I ached for Mac when he realized Bozer was in danger, and that he had hurt their friendship because he had lied to Bozer for all this time.  So this is just a little something between them because I love angsty Mac.





	

Mac was reluctant to return home. So much had happened in the past twenty-four hours and he was too tired to wrap his head around any of it properly. Which meant he desperately needed to get some sleep, so he made himself go home.

 

When he opened the door, he paused, suddenly lost in the memory of running into the house to find Bozer standing there with his hands up. Then bullets were flying as Murdoc shot at them both. Shaking off the memory, Mac wasn't the least bit surprised to see that the mess had been cleaned up. Thornton had told him that she had sent over a clean up crew and everything had been repaired or replaced and swept up, so that it was as if nothing bad had ever happened.

 

With all his heart, Mac wished that he could turn back to before Murdoc appeared. A part of him was glad that Bozer knew the truth, but at the same time he knew the truth had damaged things between them and Mac feared he would never be able to heal the wounds. 

 

Flicking on the lights, Mac headed straight for the fridge. He studied the contents for a moment, knowing he should eat something but just the thought of food turned his stomach. So he settled for pulling out a beer, but as he popped the top his boot crunched something on the floor. Frowning, Mac bent down and picked up a piece of glass. Someone had missed the broken piece of wine bottle during the clean up.

 

"Mac."

 

Not expecting anyone to be there, Mac jumped at the sound of his name. He whirled around to find Bozer standing in front of him, a duffle bag in one hand. Mac knew what that meant. "You're leaving." He said it as a fact, not a question.

 

Bozer nodded, exhaling slowly. "I can't stay here right now. I tried to sleep but I can't close my eyes without seeing Murdoc shooting at us. At me."

 

"I'm sorry." Mac didn't know what else to say. If there was a way to fix this he would do it in a heartbeat. Mac took a step forward, "Bozer..."

 

"You're bleeding." Bozer looked concerned.

 

Mac froze. "What?"

 

Dropping his duffle bag, Bozer closed the distance between them and grabbed Mac's right hand. "Dude, you're bleeding all over the floor." Muttering under his breath, Bozer dragged Mac over to the sink and ran the cold water. "Open your hand," he ordered.

 

Mac did as he was told, unfurling his fingers and wincing as he revealed the shard of glass that was now embedded in his palm. He hadn't even realized he's closed it into a fist when Bozer called his name. He sure as hell hadn't felt the pain. Mac too numb to feel anything so trivial as physical pain. Not when his heart felt broken and heavy. Bozer had always been his safe haven, his rock of Gibraltor. Mac had relied on him being there always, steadfast and permanent. But he had broken Bozer's trust in him, ripped to shred the bond between them. So he had no one but himself to blame for Bozer walking out and leaving him behind. 

 

"This is gonna hurt," Bozer stated, blissfully unaware of the storm raging inside of Mac. He tugged the shard free and dropped it in the sink. Mac didn't even flinch. He just stood there, watching the water turn red as Bozer rinsed the cut. Bozer made a face. "It's pretty deep, Mac. I think you're going to need stitches."

 

"It's fine," Mac replied, automatically. He tugged his hand free, grabbing a papertowel and pressing it over his palm. It turned red with blood but he ignored it. 

 

Bozer snorted. "It's not fine, you need stitches. Look, you're dripping blood again." 

 

Mac didn't care. "I'll take care of it," he insisted. "It's what I do, Bozer. I take care of things. I fix them. It's what I'm good at. Except when it comes to you and our friendship. I'm a crap friend...and I'm sorry...and I don't know how to fix us."

 

"I don't know either, Mac," Bozer said softly. "You're my best friend, but right now you feel like a stranger."

 

"Yeah, I get it." Mac felt like the world was crashing down around him, but he had to buckle up. Bozer had every right to be furious with him. "I don't blame you for being pissed at me."

 

Bozer shook his head. "I'm not pissed, Mac. I'm hurt and I'm confused and I need some time to sort things out. To get my head on straight. I need to figure out how the hell I didn't catch on to the fact that my best friend is a secret agent. I'm feeling pretty damn stupid right about now."

 

Mac was surprised by Bozer's confession. "Don't do that, Bozer. You're not stupid. I kept it from you because it's supposed to be a secret and...it was supposed to keep you safe. I can't tell you enough how sorry I am that I nearly got you killed. I will never forgive myself for putting you in the line of fire." Mac felt himself unraveling and he wanted, desperately, to punch something. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to do it. 

 

"I guess we're both messed up right now," Bozer stated, before grabbing Mac by the arm again and making him put his hand back in the sink. He tossed aside the blood soaked paper towel and rinsed the cut out again. "Man...you really need stitches. I'm gonna get the first aid kit and wrap this, then I'm going to take you to the hospital."

 

"Just bring the kit, I'll do it myself," Mac countered, taking his first good look at the gaping cut. It did need stitching.

 

Bozer snorted, looking amused. "Did you suddenly become ambidextrous, Mac? Is that something else I don't know about you? Because otherwise I don't see you being able to stitch that closed with your left hand."

 

Mac winced at Bozer's little dig about something else he probably hadn't told him. Not that he didn't deserve to hear it. "I can make do," he stated.

 

"One thing I do know about you, Mac, is that you like to punish yourself when you're feeling guilty." Bozer poked Mac in the chest with one finger. "I may be angry with you right now, but I'm not going to let you self-mutilate yourself out of guilt. So I'm going to get the first aid kit, wrap your hand, then drive you to the ER. Got it?"

 

"Got it." Mac felt a flicker of relief knowing that Bozer still cared about what happened to him. He had damaged things between them for sure, but hopefully not beyond repair. "Only...can you drop me off at Jack's? He'll take care of it for me."

 

Bozer frowned. "What? Is he a medic on the side?"

 

The very thought of Jack being a medic made Mac chuckle. "Not exactly, but he's surprisingly good at sewing. And before you ask...don't. Not because I can't, or won't, tell you," Mac hastened to explain. "But because you seriously don't want to know. It's disgusting."

 

"I'll take a raincheck?" Bozer requested. "I would like to hear the story, but sometime when you're not bleeding all over the place."

 

"Deal." Mac smiled at his friend, feeling a fluttering of hope. He knew he just needed to be patient and maybe, just maybe, they would find their way back around to the way things to be. Only better, because this time there would be no lies between them. 

 

Bozer smiled back. "I'll get the kit. You stay put."

 

Mac nodded, freezing into place. Maybe he didn't need to turn back time after all. Maybe he just needed to have faith in his best friend. He could do that.

 

THE END.


End file.
